“6.-Branches. Branches crossing the air. Branches cutting the air. Cutting across the interminable skin of sky. Lashing the sky. Of us all you have is shreds of sky, fervor. We are shreds. Live parts of a tree. Goldwork applied painfully onto the air, the skin of air is what you have. The blue flesh of sky. Skin that you cannot trample. We want you to want to hug us. We like that you try to hold onto the sky. We like that your hands knock against the branches. We like that you direct the branches in the air. We all want you to cut us. A gust of birds. We want you to cover our mouths. The strands of your veins calmly against the skin of sky. Hold us from within the pulse, fervor.”
Translation: 2012, Jen Hofer
გამოხატეთ თქვენი აზრი მოცემული ლექსის შესახებ კომენტარის სახით!..
